Limited Edition HarryCat
by Yxonomei
Summary: (A/U) For his 36th birthday, Severus Snape receives the most unlikely of presents from a meddling old man. If he doesn't kill it first out of annoyance, he just might find a little happiness. (SS/HP, mature content)
1. Happy Birthday, Severus Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Harry Potter Series, which solely belong to J.K. Rowling, et al, but that hasn't stopped me from writing about them.

**Warning: This story contains the themes of sex, shota/chanslash, slight bestiality, and male/male relationships, a.k.a. slash/yaoi. If any of these may offend you, then stop reading. If, however, you do read this, in spite of my warnings, and find it offensive, then I have to say it is your own fault. Some scenes are/may be of an erotic nature, but I have attempted to write them as tastefully as my ability allows.**

**Note: I will not accept any flames, however, comments and criticisms are welcome. I am under the assumption that anyone reading this has a clear understanding of the difference between flames and criticisms so I don't have to explain it. Here are some reason why I don't accept flames: **1) **they generally include an attack on the author's character without regard to previous or future works that may or may not be in the same vein, ****2) not only are they childish, but they make the writer of them sound immature and not old enough to read the material contained herein, ****3) flames help neither the author nor the flamer to improve the work and, therefore, are not constructive, ****4) if something is so offensive as to elicit the impulse to flame then it is better forgotten and not dwelled upon, ****5) you waste time writing it and I waste time reading and then deleting it, **6)** it won't do you any good to point out my lack of scruples, morals, intelligence, sanity, etc., because not only don't I care, but I won't listen.**

**Scenario:** (A/U) For his thirty-sixth birthday, Severus Snape, potions master and jaded teacher, receives a BioSorce GEE™ Toy from none other than headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Harry Potter does not exist in this story, but Harry-cat does thanks to the combination of biotechnology and sorcery (hence "Bio" and "Sorce").

If you want to discover the inspiration behind this story, email me or leave an email address in a review.

Limited Edition Harry-Cat

The morning of Severus Snape's thirty-sixth birthday starts out the same as any other day. Really, why would the world stop to acknowledge a single potions master? It has better things to do. So, without fanfare, the severe man prepares for another day of intensive research, a cup of tea during a ten minute break at ten o'clock, and snatches of food when his stomach's complaints can no longer be ignored. Then, when exhaustion steals the strength from his limbs, he will trudge to his large bedroom and collapse upon the firm bed. It's his daily winter break routine and neither birthdays nor acts of God will change it. 

However, acts of a meddling old man may.

A knock on the door interrupts Severus' ten minute tea break at precisely ten o'clock AM. Setting the porcelain cup upon its mismatched saucer, he pushes his chair back and stands with an angry sweep of black robes. An awful feeling of dread weighs down his finicky stomach. The knock most likely heralds some drastic, unwanted change in his comfortable, mundane life. What else could bring someone knocking on his door?

Usually the house elves would answer the door, but Severus forbade them from doing so after they invited in a rather tenacious magic vacuum salesman. He is tempted—the level of his temptation is something inconceivable to most mortals—to simply ignore the knocking, but morbid curiosity prompts him to leave the rather homey kitchen, where he always takes his tea. He reaches the front door by the eighth persistent and businesslike knock.

With an ever-present sneer, he opens the door.

"Greetings!" 

He shuts the door promptly in the face of an overly cheerful, bearded twenty-something year old. Another series of knocks echo through the mansion. 

"What do you want?" he hisses upon opening the door again. The young man's smile is decidedly strained. He feels no pity for the unfortunate fool. 

"I have a package for you, sir." The scowling man peers around the athletic youth and discovers that he speaks the truth. A large, white package tied with an obscenely bright green bow rests complacently behind him. Severus' scowl deepens.

"Why?"

"'Why', sir?" the dim deliveryman asks. "I…This is your address, right?" The potions master takes the delivery sheet from his hands and scans the address printed. 

"Yes."

"Then this package is yours, sir."

"I didn't order anything." The youth shrugs as if to say that it isn't his problem. Of course it wouldn't be. He just curries the things; he holds no responsibility for the reason behind why anyone would send anything to anyone else. 

"Just sign here and I'll be off." The young man seems to be nearing the end of his forced patience. Severus finds himself unable to effectively argue the offensive package back into non-existence. 

With a practiced, economical scratch of quill on parchment he signs the delivery sheet and seals his signature to prevent identity theft. It is rather amazing how a simple signature, when unprotected, can result in a wizard or witch's entire life becoming another's. He has heard of that happening too many times to let his guard down.

"Thank you, sir, and I hope you enjoy your package." With a jaunty little bow the deliveryman takes back the sheet of parchment and jogs away. Thus, Severus finds himself alone with the package. No amount of scowling will cause the package, which he suspects to be some manner of birthday gift, to suddenly disappear.

With a resigned sigh he levitates the wrapped container into the foyer. Once inside he slams the door closed and locks it. Then he turns to regard the present. Slowly he circles it as if he expects some horrible creature to burst forth or a bomb to go off. When nothing happens, he cautiously undoes the bow with a sharp tug. 

The box collapses to reveal a strange, egg-shaped object made of what appears to be lamb's wool. He stares at it in bewilderment. Someone has decided to give him a giant, fuzzy egg for his birthday? He would rather have nothing at all, as usual.

Suddenly a gold embossed card pops into existence before his eyes. Growling out a string of guttural curses, he grabs the card and pulls it back till the words are no longer blurred squiggles of gold. 

_'Dear valued customer,'_ the card says, the words appearing with a flourish of superfluous curlicues. Severus' already sour mood reaches its nadir. _'BioSorce thanks you most heartily for your interest in our top-of-the-line, limited edition GEE (Genetically Engineered Entity) Toys ™' The sinking in the vicinity of the potion master's stomach becomes more pronounced. _'BioSorce would like to take this time to explain a few basic maintenance necessities of the GEE Toys™. First, as a living creature, your new companion requires sustenance. It is capable of ingesting and processing all human foods and then some. Second, it will need facilities to relieve itself after processing the food. All GEE Toys™ have built in sanitary modules and are perfectly capable of using a variety of different toilet facilities. Third, as with any creature, your new companion will get dirty. Again, the sanitary modules enable it to use almost any bathing facility.'__

"Oh, Merlin." A rather pronounced throbbing settles between his eyes. With great trepidation he continues to read.

_'Fourth, as a living entity, it requires shelter and warmth. Please do not leave your GEE Toy™ out in the rain or lock it in a damp and cold place. Such treatment of it will invalidate its lifetime warranty._

_'Thank you, again, and BioSorce hopes that you enjoy your new GEE Toy™!'_

Severus snarls and crumples the damned card. Whoever sent this to him is about to face hell. Who dared, anyway? The answer comes in the form of a rust-red owl tapping impatiently at one of the foyer's windows. He recognizes that owl: it is one of those held on reserved by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  The only person who sends him anything from that place is…

"Oh, shit."

He considers simply ignoring the owl and sending the egg back to where it came from. Unfortunately a small knob of curiosity propels him forward. His curiosity would kill even the luckiest cat, it seems. 

The owl drops a blank envelope on the sill and takes off without pausing to replenish its strength. It must be aware of Severus' tendency to take things out on the messenger, human or not. Feeling unaccountably slighted about the bird's distinct lack of trust, the man grabs the envelope and rips it open without due respect for its contents. The headache explodes into a full-blown migraine as he reads it. 

_'Dear Severus, dear friend,'_ the epistle begins in the overly familiar handwriting of none other than the headmaster of Hogwarts himself, Albus Dumbledore. _'I've decided that you have been living alone and brooding for more years than is healthy.' Gods, he can practically hear the man's cheerful voice in his head. __'With that thought in mind, I have decided to take it upon my humble self to remedy this deplorable situation. You can thank me later, old friend. Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore.'_

The short letter encounters the same fate as the card. In a towering rage the potions master stalks about the fuzzy egg. Horrific images of exactly what the headmaster has sent ravage his beleaguered brain. He considers hexing the thing into oblivion, but both BioSorce and Albus hinted that the thing in the egg is alive. No doubt both would be very disappointed in him if he attempts to murder the thing. 

He snarls and approaches the egg. He touches it with one long fingered hand. The response is immediate. The lamb's wool parts into five distinct sections and slowly curls down. His stomach clenches and threatens bilious rebellion. Damn Albus and his meddlesome ways. 'Alone and brooding'? Hardly! Well, if he is to be honest with himself, perhaps he does brood a little upon occasion, and of course one can only brood effectively alone. He feels immensely pleased with himself for that rationalization.

When the fuzzy petals finally reach the floor, Severus discovers the true horror of his present: a slight child of thirteen with messy black hair. However, if that wasn't the worst of it, the child is obviously not human, at least completely. A pair of white furred ears twitch upon registering his indrawn hiss of dismay and a white furred tail, tied with a blue bow sporting two tiny silver bells, lashes the air delicately. 

Then the child emits a kittenish mew and opens bottle green eyes, which light with saccharine adoration upon seeing him.

Acid surges violently within the man's stomach. A thousand dwarven hammers beat against the soft tissue of his brain. 

Without further ado he lets loose a string of curses that would surely immolate the ears off of any hardened sailor, and then some. The cat-child smiles, revealing delicately pointed canines, and seems to be completely oblivious to the imprecations flying precariously close to his tender and quite sensitive ears. 

Thus begins the worst birthday Severus can remember and by nighttime he will achieve new levels of mental distress, all thanks to the misguided meddling of a sentimental old man. 

*          *          *


	2. Happy Birthday, Severus Part 2

I have to say I am quite shocked to receive so many kind regards from so many people.

First thanks must always be allocated to the first reviewer: **Evelia**, thank you ever so much for the kind words you have bestowed upon this little story of mine.

**RavensHaelo, Selua, Sly4, Rachel R., Shinemegami, Arwen Rayne, aurora, lex, Da Bunny, WitchWay, Lunarennui, npetrenko, **I thank you most sincerely for the kind encouragement. I hope I shall continue to entertain you.

**AngelDragonStar**, I am very glad that you decided to take a chance on my story despite your aversion to slash. Perhaps you might find yourself liking it? Mayhaps not, but I shall endeavor to keep you amused.

**DancingCheeto**, Thank you for the kind words. And do not fear, no blood shall stain your hands. You shall receive your picture. It is only for those with strong wills, though. It might be best to keep some screen cleaner nearby for 'kawaii' emergencies. 

**Ryo**, I have read Chobits, and it didn't occur to me, until you mentioned it, that the two have a similar feel. Perhaps it was my subconscious guiding my fingers. This was based more on Wish—another lovely Clamp manga—though. 

**Snapetoy**, Being kicked off seems to be a very dark possibility. I hope that it does not come to that, but I have taken some means to ensure this tale will live on. I have posted it at aff.net and my live-journal. However, I am always interested in having works archived at other sites. Thank you for your concern and kind words.

**Wolf Lupin**, Oh my, that is too, too kind of you! I hope my writing shall continue to please. 

**MistWalker**, Yes, there shall be much frustration. I take pleasure in the fact that you enjoyed this story. Thank you kindly. 

**Zarza, Phoenix Angel3**, Harry-neko wa kawaii desu yo

**Redrum**, thank you for you kind regards. I have to admit, upon seeing your name, I began to recite lines from the _Shining._

**Snape{**, Thank you for the encouragement. You simply must divulge the location of this doujinshi! I would love to read it, if it exists. 

**Dark Mage Natalus,  I** hope your 'squee-er' gets better. Thank you very much for the wonderful review!

**Davita**, Thank you dearly for your most kind compliments. You have set the bar for me. I hope I am able to bring you further amusement with my endeavors.

To the wonderful **Emjay**, I cannot express the potency of my joy upon discovering that you recommended me at the HPchan forum. I will forever regard you with adoration. You have made everything sparkle. My most heartfelt thanks and appreciation,

Yxonomei Ayauhteotl

Notes: Chapter 1 is about three or four parts long. I am not combing them based on the grounds that reading more than four or five pages at a sitting generally does not agree with most people. For this reason it might seem a tad slow. I humbly apologize and plead for you to maintain kind patience. 

Additionally, as Snapetoy so kindly pointed out, it might behoove me to archive this at other sites. If anyone is interested in such an endeavor, please email me. I would be thrilled to find others interested in this.

Limited Edition Harry-Cat

With unnatural grace the cat-child begins to paw about the remains of the fuzzy egg. Severus Snape finds himself distracted from his tirade by that damnable curiosity, which seems to be his downfall today. Black eyes narrowed, he observes the living present's methodical movements. Suddenly he emits a delighted mew and bends down to pick something up with his teeth. The something proves to be a rather large leather-bound book. The cat-boy carries it by a black ribbon attached to its spine. 

The gentle sway of slender hips is distracting as well the man discovers to his annoyed chagrin as the cat-boy crawls towards him on hands and feet. He frowns. A normal human would have made such an action stilted and awkward. This 'GEE Toy™' seems quite at ease with this mode of travel. In fact, it comes to him in a disturbingly innate fashion. 

The potions master's saving grace, as the cat-child stops at his feet, is that BioSorce had the good sense to clothe the creature. Loose white shorts and vest maintain the modesty of the unsettlingly cute cat-boy. The man has no clue as to what he would have done if he had discovered his present nude. No doubt his course of action would include a scathing letter declaiming the perversity of a certain headmaster. Of course, such a letter seems to still be an option. 

The creature mews plaintively and releases the book to drop to the floor—thankfully missing his foot by inches. He looks at the book and then back at the cat-child. 

"What?" 

"Mrrr."

"Excuse me?"

"Mrrr!"

The conversation continues on this vein for an exasperating moment longer before Severus throws up his hands in frustration. With a decidedly inhuman snarl he bends down, hears his spine pop annoyingly, and retrieves the book. Slit-pupil, bottle-green eyes glow with delight and approval. A dark glare does not seem to have any effect upon the damned thing. 

'**_Limited Edition Harry-Cat_**_,'_ is emblazoned across the white cover in black ink. In smaller writing below the title the book declares that it is a complete and comprehensive—thank the gods for small favors—guide for taking care—that does not cheer him up in the slightest—of the 'Harry-cat'. 

He looks at the cat-boy. He looks back at the cover. He repeats the motions in a haze of incredulity. The creature remains unperturbed by his owner's bafflement. He seems more interesting in playing with the hem of Severus' sweeping black robes. 

"Your name is Harry-cat?" the man demands.

"Mrrr."

"Is that a yes?"

"Mrrr," the cat-boy replies with an ingenuous smile. Severus takes this to mean 'yes'. He is tempted to ram his head against the nearest hard surface, the foyer having several choice spots, as it were. However, that damned self-preservation instinct kicks in and he thinks better of such a decision. Besides, the migraine and stomach ulcer are nicely taking care of all his pain requirements. Adding any more would simply be superfluous. 

"Come on," he snarls and stalks out of the foyer in the direction of his private study. He is about to compose two letters brimming with vitriolic rage, and then read the damned book. He is not willing to remain in ignorance in regards to his 'present'. Perhaps between the furious penning and irritated reading, he will come across a truly ingenious revenge upon Albus. Of course he would never dare perpetrate such a thing, but these plans keep him from strangling the old coot on sight. 

So sunk in his wrathful thoughts, he never notices that Harry-cat seems to possess an inquisitiveness comparable to his own. He does notice, however, when a loud, crystal crash echoes throughout the manner. He whirls around to find the cat-boy looking at the shattered remains of his late grandmother's glass manticore collection. 

"You—!" 

Before he can hex the insufferable creature into the darkest pits of hell, Harry-cat hurls himself at Severus and clings to his legs like the world is ending. White tail lashing in agitation, the creature mewls earnest platitudes. The man is stunned. He has not experienced the sensation of another's touch for many years. Now it appears that the cat-child is unknowingly determined to make up the lack. He has forgotten that the body of another could be so warm…

"Let go of me," Severus growls when his shock dissipates somewhat. He is not a man who lets others manhandle him, no matter how pleasant—did he just admit to that?—such handling proves to be. The thin arms wrap more securely about his knees. He prods the dark head roughly. "I'm not going to kill you." Yet, he adds silently. 

"Mrrr?" Tearful green eyes peer up at him beneath delicate fans of sooty black lashes. Harry-cat's ears seem to twitch towards the destruction of glass. The dainty bells on his tail tinkle with every distressed jerk. 

With a haggard sigh Severus pulls he wand out and casts a repair spell. The destruction reverses in slow motion and soon twelve glittering glass manticores growl threateningly on top of their oak end table. 

"Prrr!" Suddenly he finds himself bereft of the disconcertingly pleasant warmth when the cat-boy scurries back over to the scene of the accident. Purring in amazement, Harry-cat teases the newly restored figurines while Severus determinedly uses a well-honed system of denial to justify his discomfiting reaction to the creature's—embrace?

*          *          *

The study of Severus Snape proves to be a far more dangerous place for Harry-cat. Already the potions master has had to extricate the pale creature from several accidents. Firstly, Harry-cat decided to investigate the contents of the man's jar of floo powder. Moments later Severus found himself needing to cast a cleaning spell upon a cat-boy covered in light green dust, which he seemed to think was edible for some unaccountable reason. Secondly, the menace took it upon himself to thoroughly examine Severus' desk. Before the increasingly exasperated man could stop him, Harry-cat managed to upset a bottle of perm-ink, which not only spread across the man's desk, but also took a liking to Harry-cat. All of this was very much to the poor potions master's continued aggravation. 

In an act of desperation and in the interest of preserving the rest of his study, Severus cast a binding spell on the determinedly inquisitive creature. 

From his position on the floor, Harry-cat voices his displeasure loudly. Severus resolutely ignores the plaintive meows and pens an angry epistle to Albus. 

"Meow."

The quill moves across the parchment in angry strokes.

"Meow!"

The potions master blows the ink dry as he finishes the first page of his seething outrage.

"Me-ow!"

A dark glow of satisfaction fills the man as he works upon his masterpiece of anger. Albus will not know what hit him after he reads this. Severus is sure of this. That man has finally crossed a line that the potions master cannot forgive, and his displeasure shall be known. Even as he writes, the migraine and ulcer settle down to await the next bout of stress. Knowing the potions master, the next bout will occur in approximately two minutes.

Harry-cat emits a grumbling roar. Severus' head jerks up in time to watch the magical bindings fall to glitter about the irate cat-boy. Bottle-green irises drown in the ink of the expanding pupils. Before Severus can extract his wand from the voluminous folds of his robe, the cat-boy launches himself at the man. 

Expecting to feel razor sharp canines ripping into the tender flesh of his throat, he is shocked into immobility to find the cat-boy plastered against him. Slim limbs work their way around him to facilitate the clinging. Within seconds of the 'attack' Harry-cat is purring happily and nuzzling against the potions master's strained neck. 

"Get off."

"Prrr."

"Now!"

"Prrr!"

Every attempt to disentangle Harry-cat meets with failure and only serves to make the boy press more firmly against Severus. And having a lapful of warm, purring cat-boy elicits the most disconcerting sensations. Again, the potions master's legendary denial ability kicks in before his conscious mind can interpret the tingle skittering up his spine.

Resignation once again descends upon the hapless man. He has a stomach-churning feeling that he will soon be making good friends with that particular emotion where Albus' present is concerned. 

With some difficulty Severus returns to his letter. Much to his chagrin he finds himself unable to maintain the same level of indignant hostility. Really, who would be able to with a lapful of Harry-cat? The end result of the epistle is dissatisfying, to say the least. The second one proves to be short and sarcastic—and not even properly sarcastic. Feeling decidedly put out, the man wrestles the all-too comfortable cat-boy from his lap. One would think he was part limpet, honestly. 

"Mrrr," Harry-cat protests after the man deposits him upon the floor. He moves to return to his former position, but Severus stops him with a black glare—perfected over a course of twenty five years. This glare is so potent it has been known to send a seventh year Ravenclaw into fits of hysteric tears. It appears that it is the only glare Harry-cat will respect. He files this information away for further use. He has precious few weapons to use against the inquisitive creature. 

"I think not. You are going to stay there and you are not going to move an inch."

"Mrrr." The cat-boy pouts, tail lashing. The silver bells jingle delicately. Severus quickly puts his seal upon each document. He turns to Harry-cat and quickly casts the most intricate series of binding and sleep spells he knows. It might be overkill, but he doesn't particularly care. The thing is a menace!

Satisfied that the little hellion will not be wreaking havoc upon his formerly ordered life, the potions masters heads to his personal aviary. Unlike most wizards, he has not limited himself to the use of only owls. He has several species of predatory birds housed there, falcons, hawks and ravens among the number. The equation of cat-boy and raptors is not something he is willing to solve. 

Glancing back at the peacefully slumbering boy and watching the small twitches of ears and tail, Severus takes his leave of the room with letters in hand. 

*          *          *


	3. Happy Birthday, Severus Part 3

I must confess to a certain amount of incredulous shock to find that a greater number of people have deigned to give approval for this little thing. I am in raptures. I do not know how to properly express the extent of my gratitude, but I shall endeavor to do so. Please bear with me. 

**Redrum**, as you are the first reviewer of the second chapter, I must express the profound happiness that your review has given me. I hope that this chapter meets with your approval.

**Kateri1**, **bluebird161221, ****snowlight144, **Zaira-Draco**, **Wolf Lupin**, ****AngelDragonStar, **The Goddess Artemis**, **Mystical Witch**, ****npetrenko, ****RavensHaelo, **Sylvester**,**** da bunny, ****Himestu Hime, **WitchWay**, ****Sara Wolfe, ****Vixxy D, **psycho tabby cat**, **Draconnis**, ****sly4, **Aerhiana**, ****Sylvanus Snape, ****Honor, I am deeply grateful to all of you for taking the time out of your lives to review this story. I hope that this chapter will meet with your kind approval, and, if not, I shall endeavor with utmost dedication to rectify the situation. Thank you for your wonderful patience. **

**Chyna**, I am glad that you found my story to your liking despite the fact that it is not angst. 

**chibijed**, I have not read that manga, but it sounds most delightful! Thank you for your kind words.

**evelia**, I am once again unsure of what words to use in order to properly express how delighted I am that you continue to favor this story with such kindly regards. My chief joy, aside from writing itself, is to find that people appreciate my efforts. I am deeply indebted to you for all the kindness that you have shown. 

**Jane**, Well, I do not wish to divulge too much, but Harry-cat will not learn English; the reason will be discussed at a later date, I'm afraid. Additionally, he is not a robot, but a genetically and magically engineered life form. Thank you for the exuberance with which you reviewed. I am ever so happy that you like my story. 

**Maximum Poofy-Pissed Off Queen**, I adore MegaTokyo (though I have been a tad unfaithful in the recent months due to a hectic life). Harry-cat isn't a robot, though. I am glad that my story has garnered your approval. 

**sakurakawaiicherry**, Hai, soo desu yo. Doozo yoroshiku onegaishimasu. 

**ShadowWolf**, Yes, thanks to a very kind reviewer, I have found the location of my inspirational picture, and it is, indeed, from that site. Thank you for your kind encouragement. 

**xikum**, You have quite accurately discerned the other half of the inspiration. Loveable nuisances, ne?

**Dark Mage Natalus**, I am glad that your squee-er got better!

**Illucia**, Your confusion shall be set straight, hopefully, with the coming of following chapters. Yes, I do suppose the potions master should come under interrogation for his response towards Harry-cat, and I have no excuse sufficient to address your concerns. I suppose it must simply be accepted without searching for deeper meanings. Thank you, nonetheless, for you words. I am glad that you still found something in this story to entertain you. 

Limited Edition Harry-Cat

After sending his letters off, Severus stops at the lavatory to relieve himself. Upon opening the door to leave, he finds a distinctly distraught house-elf wringing the hem of its pillowcase kirtle. Though he has a sense of what has upset the creature, there still remains a twisted hope that he is wrong. What he wouldn't give to be wrong this once!

"What is the matter, Minsc?" Now Schrodinger's theoretical box has been opened. 

"Something is being in the kitchen, Master Snape, sir," the elf wails as large tears begin to drip from its bulbous eyes. "Minsc and the others can't be doing anything!"

The migraine wakes up with a raucous cheer of celebration. The aggrieved potions master pinches the bridge of his nose and contemplates becoming a religious man. Mayhaps then he will have some peace and quiet. A resounding crash from downstairs reminds him that the present requires his immediate attention. 

Brushing past the wailing house-elf, he stalks down to the kitchen. As he reaches the door, it swings open and a panicked elf with its head stuck in a large bag of confectioner's sugar races out. Several more tumble after it as it strews white power everywhere in its attempts to free itself. Inside he can hear more elves crying out for 'something' to stop. The man has a good idea of what that something is, too.

A strained growl trickles past his thin lips as he throws the door open and takes measure of the full magnitude of destruction and chaos within. Copper pots and pans lie scattered on the floor. White flour covers every surface, several inches thick in some places. Sticky puddles of various sauces and syrups decorate the floor and counters—and many of the elves as well. Broken crockery testifies to the passage of a singularly determined creature.

Severus finds said creature on top of the icebox in the process of upending his last box of Darjeeling tea. Harry-cat ignores the frantic shrieks of the house-elves to stop and paws at a jar, which the man knows to contain peanut butter cookies, his favorite cookies. 

"Prr," Harry-cat says as he manages to pry it open. 

"You!" Severus shouts as he strides through the mess and elves, which quickly part to allow him passage. The cat-boy stops, one hand in the jar, and smiles down at the man from his precarious position. He does not appear to find anything amiss. White flour dusts his dark hair and delicate nose and chin. 

"Mrr." He fishes out a cookie and takes a cheerful bite. Absently he licks the crumbs from the corners of his mouth. 

"Get down this instant, you little cretin!" 

Severus realizes his mistake when the cat-child's tail stiffens and his body tenses. With a happy mew the creature launches himself from the top of the icebox. Now, all physical resemblance to a cat aside, the human body is of such a mass and proportion as to make falling from a distance not a recommended idea. With this in mind Severus throws himself forward to arrest the cat-boy's imminent landing upon the floor. He soon finds himself prostrate upon his back with a heavy weight mewling softly against his chest and the wind knocked out of him. Anxiously Harry-cat nips his face and ears, all the while making soft noises of concern. 

A moment of insanity descends upon him as he finds himself unable to order his body to depose the creature from atop of him. Now he cannot even use the excuse of being winded from the fall, as his breathing returns to normal. Yet, he still does not move. Manfully he begins to justify this unwillingness to remove the cat-boy. The reasons disintegrate when a warm, sandpapery tongue briefly flicks across the whorls of his sensitive ears. 

"Off! Get off!" Severus yells, ignoring the panic spiking his voice. This whole situation breathes of unreality. Breathing harshly he sits up, causing the cat-child to tumble into his lap; Harry-cat doesn't seem adverse to this position, either. Absently the potions master rubs his molested ear. He can still feel the silkily abrasive texture of the creature's pointed pink tongue. Said tongue plays coltishly across the creature's blushing lips. An inexplicably tightening of the man's entire body sets off the panic alarms again.

Feeling put out and damning the capriciousness of his own body, Severus stands up and growls menacingly. House-elves scatter with supersonic alacrity. Harry-cat investigates the spilled tea upon the floor. He sniffs inquisitively and, with a look of comical astonishment, sneezes loudly. The tea rises in a loose cloud and settles on him. The potions master is almost startled into a laugh—'almost' being the key word. Instead he frowns severely. 

"Mrr," the cat-child grouses shaking his head. 

"What did you think you were doing?" Green eyes turn to regard him earnestly.

"Mrr." A delicate rumbling originating from the creature's stomach answers his question.

"You're hungry?" Harry-cat nods enthusiastically. Deciding to put aside the matter of the creature's inexplicable escape, he summons one of the flighty elves. He grabs the cat-boy's slender arm and drags him to the dinning room. It is time to see if the thing has any table etiquette. 

*          *          *

Cold roast beef and milk seem to be to Harry-cat's satisfaction. He shows no signs, however, of having any clue as to how to use dinning utensils. Yet he is quite a fastidious eater and, having been cleaned with a simple spell, he is immaculate. He makes a point of licking clean each finger after every bite. 

Severus finds this most distracting, though he tells himself he is distracted by revulsion, that the tingle in his stomach is disgust. A particularly malicious corner of his mind begins to taunt him with the truth of the sensation. 

Glaring at the remains of his roast beef sandwich, he pushes the chair back and stands up. Harry-cat, in the process of nibbling upon a bread roll, looks at him curiously. 

"Come here," the man commands tersely. Harry-cat stuffs the rest of the roll in his mouth, cheeks bulging like a chipmunk's, and gracefully slips from the chair to pad around the table to the potions master's side. Inquiringly he cocks his head, ears twitching inquisitively and tail slowly lashing the air. 

"Don't think about getting comfortable here," Severus snarls. "I'm sending you back as soon as BioSorce sends a reply." 

"Meow!" Harry-cat cries in alarm. 

"You are a menace and an unwanted nuisance and the sooner you're gone the better." The cat-boy's ears flatten against his skull and he glares sullenly at the towering man. "I have no clue how you managed to escape my spells, but if you dare destroy any more of my property, I will cast something more permanent." 

He doesn't comprehend the mechanics of the creature's mind, but he does know that Harry-cat understands him. The reactions to his words, despite the creature's obstinate disregard, proves this to be true. For a moment the fact that such a creation could be sanctioned for retail sale disturbs him. It boarders on slavery, but then, he admits, so does the servitude of house-elves and other such cognitive creatures.

Unwilling to think upon the moral and social ramifications of such practices, he returns to the most important—in his mind—matter at hand: how to get rid of the annoyingly saccharine Harry-cat. 

With a sniff of disdain and affront, Harry-cat pads away without a backwards glance. Before Severus can think to intercept the precocious creature a house-elf pops in holding a letter. He grabs the letter with such swiftness that the elf shrieks and faints dead away in fright. 

Disappointment—and relief?—immediately assails him. The letter is not, indeed, from Albus, but instead from BioSorce. The company's glittering gold emblem of a crossed graduated cylinder and wand sends out small bubbles and sparks into the air. The potions master growls disapprovingly at this tawdry display and rips the thing open. 

_'Dear valued customer,'_ the letter begins. The cheerfulness seems to ooze off the parchment. Severus has the sudden urge to wash his hands in lye. Resolutely he continues to read. _'We here at BioSorce deeply regret that you have found the Limited Edition Harry-cat_ _to be dissatisfying. Due to genetic manipulation the Harry-cat_ cannot be resold without unfortunate consequences, both for _Harry-cat__ and the prospective buyers. The addition of avian DNA ensures that the Harry-cat_ will imprint upon the first observed face. If you would like to remove your _GEE Toy™_ from the household, please activate the attached port key. _Harry-cat_ will be immediately transported to our main facility for termination procedures. Thank you, and we hope that you will find future products more satisfactory.'__

A pair of words stand out to Severus: 'termination procedures.' Termination? If that means what he thinks it does…

How could a company so wantonly extinguish a life? And a cognitive one at that! A deep, resentful rage boils up from his stomach. For all his cynicism and pessimism, Severus Snape possesses a rather strong belief in the sanctity of life, at least the life of innocents. Perhaps that is the reason why he hasn't hexed one of his more insufferably ignorant pupils—or the threat of prison, whichever. 

Sighing dejectedly, he tosses the envelope and its repulsive contents onto the table and goes off in search of the errant Harry-cat. He will have to await Albus' letter, or, failing that, fire-message him later this evening. 

*          *          *

Severus finds Harry-cat curled up, fluffy white tail tickling his nose, on the couch in his den. He quickly takes stock and finds, much to his surprise, nothing disturbed. He returns his gaze to the creature. The cat-child looks a tad too endearing, what with those ridiculous ears and tail. Yet, the simplicity and ingenuousness that he displays is somehow…enchanting. He frowns. He is not becoming attached to the thing. Not a chance in the nine hells. Still he can't bring himself to return Harry-cat to BioSorce for…termination. 

The cay-boy's ears twitch as he crosses the wood floor. Slowly large green eyes blink open. The man is treated to a delicate yawn revealing pointed canines. Lazily Harry-cat stares at him. None of his earlier ire is in evidence. Though one would think that, with all the sleep spells Severus placed on him before, he would be less sleepy. 

An absurd desire to apologize for his earlier harsh words assails the man as he stares down at the creature. Did Harry-cat realize what would happen to him if Severus had, indeed, sent him back? He must have, otherwise why did he evidence such alarm?

He rubs the bridge of his nose and sits down next to Harry-cat. Despite knowing that the creature possesses the capability to understand his words, he can't help but feel a bit ridiculous for talking with him. 

"I am sorry…Harry…cat," he begins grudgingly, all the while questioning his sanity for apologizing to a genetically and magically created entity. "I will not be sending you back—"

"Prr!" Harry-cat uncurls and manages to squirm partially onto Severus' unwilling lap. Large green eyes stare up at him adoringly. 

"But that doesn't mean you're staying." The cat-boy gives him a supremely confident look that plainly tells the man not to count his eggs before they hatch. "In fact, as soon as I contact one of my acquaintances, you will be finding yourself in a new home." Harry-cat gives an unconcerned sniff and decides to fall asleep on the discomfited potions master's lap. The barest flexing of sharp nails convinces a wandless Severus that attempting to dislodge the napping creature is not the wisest action to take. 

Finding himself once again at the mercies of the cat-child, Severus resigns himself to sitting on the couch. If only his hands would stop itching to stroke the mess of black hair on Harry-cat's head. 

Damn it all!

*          *          *


End file.
